


It All Came Crashing Down

by KrazyKeke



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Black!Reader - Freeform, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Multi, Mutant Reader, Mutants get along a bit more in this universe, Polyamory, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazyKeke/pseuds/KrazyKeke
Summary: Everyone has a past. It’s what we do in the present and future that matters at all.





	It All Came Crashing Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [supremethunder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supremethunder/gifts).



> Request: Maybe the reader is hired temporarily to help upgrade Bucky’s arm with Shuri and during that time the reader and Bucky bond but the reader starts to fall for T’Challa and becomes torn over which one to choose.

Politics has always been nasty business but the Accords is a particularly… _interesting_ grey area. An ignorant person would believe it to be simply the world finally putting it’s foot down after the Avengers made a mess of Sokovia and with the latest clusterfuck in Lagos, this was simply the thing that broke the camel’s back, however you knew differently. 

People were afraid of anything different or what, and who, they couldn’t control. Once upon a time SHIELD had been footing the bill for the Avengers Initiative and they were, for a time, a legitimate, international government agency, but without that blanket protection, and even worse, the revelation that the thought extinct HYDRA had survived Captain America’s time and even infiltrated SHIELD, all that goodwill went up in smoke.

Everyone tried to tell you this was the wrong approach, not to do this. When a higher authority figure is given unmitigated power, when is the outcome ever positive? _Never_. However, if there’s one thing you learned, it’s picking your battles, cutting and running, and if you’re called a sellout for deciding to sign the Sokovia Accords, for deciding to get on this thing before it could get worse, become something similar to the Mutant Registration Act that had thankfully, quickly, been repealed in the late 2000′s and early 2001, then you’d accept that label with graceful aplomb. 

You notice a flash of red hair in your peripheral vision. “I didn’t think this was your scene.” Natasha Romanoff commented in a calm, placid tone, taking a seat nearby, casual as can be.

‘We can’t all be blessed with wealthy parents that left us multi-billion dollar companies, inherited mansions, or exhibiting borderline sociopath behavior.’ You think to yourself sardonically, even as you sign another paper. “My being here has nothing to do with either faction.”

“And you do see why I can’t quite take you at your word.”

Glancing up, you smiled thinly. “I suppose you would know all about zebras and their stripes, wouldn’t you, Widow?” It was a low blow and before Natasha could say something equally as spiteful in retaliation, a tall, broad shouldered man walked over to the both of you and although you hadn’t met him personally, you did recognize him from watching television. The Prince of Wakanda, T’Challa. Somehow seeing the prince in the flesh than on TV only made this experience more…surreal.

“Ladies.” Although he dipped his head in acknowledgement to Natasha, T’Challa favored you with a smile, something that made your heart beat a tad bit faster and you were desperate to ignore, shut it down because that was **not happening** ; no way, no how. “Allow me to be the first to say how I appreciate you both attending this function, especially since I doubt any of us are used to the spotlight.”

Standing up straighter in an unconscious gesture, you clasped your hands behind your back. “The world is changing and it’s better to adapt before it’s too late.”

A wrinkle appeared between T’Challa’s eyebrows as he frowned. “Some would call that a self defeatist attitude.”

“I prefer to look at the big picture as a whole.”

“So you don’t approve of all this?” Natasha spoke, posing her query to the both of us and determinedly, you didn’t flinch because for a moment, you’d forgotten she was standing right there. T’Challa looked contrite for dismissing her presence as well before he smoothed his expression into something more pleasant and passive.

“The Accords, yes. The politics?” Shaking his head gently, he frowned. “Not really. Two people in a room can get more done than a hundred.”

“Unless you need to move a piano.” Just as silent on his feet as his son, King T’Chaka moved from behind Natasha, lips pulled into a white toothed smile and how much he’d heard of the conversation was unclear. While the king, prince and the spy – ‘And boy, aren’t I getting warm and fuzzy feelings about Narnia.’ – conversed with each other, you took the opportunity to slip away. 

Later, when an explosion rocked the building (“EVERYBODY, GET DOWN!!” T’Challa yelling even as he raced towards his father, more than willing to shield him–) and the _heatsmokeash_ persistently clogs your nose, stings your eyes, you find that you’re simply numb. You refused to be checked over by the medics, refused to let them touch you more than necessary as the memories are too close, far too close to the surface, and more than anything, you regret not saying anything to the deceased monarch when you had the chance.

“Don’t bother Miss Romanoff. I’ll kill him myself.” And there was that flat assurance, which barely hid the anger and the grief. T’Challa wasn’t going to leave the murder of his father up to the ‘proper authorities’ like Natasha wanted, like everyone else wanted. Some deep, buried part of you half hoped he got what he wanted too. If there’s one thing you understood well, it’s that the loss of family could drive even the sanest man to lunacy and only doling out vengeance on the perpetrator would calm one’s blood. 

Natasha flicked her gaze towards you, as if imploring you with her eyes to say something but you just shrugged one shoulder and glanced away, ignoring her sigh. 

Really, she should have known better.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, leave a kudos or review.


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